


How Does It Feel To Lose Control?

by Amarillis39



Series: 'Arrow in the Air' Universe [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Vikings, Blow Jobs, Companion Piece for Chap3 Arrow in the Air, Conflicted Theo Nott, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Porn With Plot, Praise Kink, Shameless Smut, Slash, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 11:01:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29823942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amarillis39/pseuds/Amarillis39
Summary: This one-shot happens during Chapter 3 of the "Arrow in the Air."Theo Nottson is in a bad place. His friend is hurt and he is not ready to take over.He's not ready for the power, he's not trustworthy enough.But someone is willing to teach him a lesson on power and trust.
Relationships: Theodore Nott/Harry Potter
Series: 'Arrow in the Air' Universe [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2192367
Comments: 18
Kudos: 37





	How Does It Feel To Lose Control?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Canttouchthis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Canttouchthis/gifts), [ThusAtlas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThusAtlas/gifts), [PTwritesmore](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PTwritesmore/gifts).



> I decided to write this little smut piece for my lovely Alphabet as a thanks for their patience, help and never ending thirst for my Viking boys. Also, as a tribute to our House of Nott.
> 
> This is kind of behind the scenes on Theo's rough day.
> 
> All the beta love to the fantastic [LeilahMoon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeilahMoon/works). Thank you BB <3
> 
> Enjoy!

Theo was hurting - his best friend was dying.

And what better way to deal with the pain, than drinking himself under the table in the tavern?

He didn’t bother to wash the war paint from his face. He didn’t even care that his cloak was caked in a mixture of Draco’s blood, as well as his own. His cuts and bruises were irrelevant.

“Another!” he shouted, throwing his empty cup on the ground. 

The remaining patrons scattered just a little further away from him. 

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” a condescending voice made him look up from where he covered his face with his hands, and it took him a moment to focus his blurry vision as the room spun. 

A stranger had taken the seat in front of him, like it was the most normal thing in the world - to crowd the Viking lieutenant when he was in the process of drinking himself to oblivion.

“Who are you?” Theo slurred. “Don’t you fear for your life?” 

“Oh, I do. Or rather, I did, before you and your friends took me away from my home and brought me here to serve you,” the dark haired man replied nonchalantly, taking a hearty swig from Theo’s fresh cup of mead. 

His green eyes were so piercing that Theo couldn’t look away. “Who are you?” he asked again, squinting. He wasn’t used to having to ask twice.

“You are Son of the Night, isn’t that what they call you?” the man continued, as though Theo hadn’t spoken at all.

“Yes, but who are you?” 

If the man’s eyes weren’t so mesmerising, he would already be dead - but Theo decided he was feeling generous today. Also, he wasn’t entirely sure he could actually wield his axe in his current inebriated condition.

It wasn’t easy for a Viking to get so blackout drunk, they practiced the art from a young age, after all. But Theo was adamant to forget his pains and worries. 

“You must know those stories aren’t real,” the raven-haired man insisted. 

It took Theo’s fuzzy mind a moment to understand what the other man meant. “They’re as real to me as your God is to you,” he said finally and willed the room to stop whirling so he could focus on the man in front of him.

“He isn’t. Real that is… if he was real and as good as he is painted to be, don’t you think he would allow his worshippers to indulge and enjoy some earthly pleasures? Why would the absolution only be achievable by suffering? Why should I be punished for seeking company and warmth?” the man said, and Theo suddenly felt naked and vulnerable under the heavy, piercing gaze. The air between them shifted as they stared at each other. “But I prayed to him, you know? I prayed for the Jarl to recover.” Theo’s eyes widened. The room suddenly stopped spinning and Theo managed to focus his gaze on the other man.

The stranger took another long sip from Theo’s cup as the momentary silence enveloped them. 

“My name is Harry,” he continued eventually. “You and your men took me from my home and from my wife months ago. And I am grateful you did.” 

Theo didn’t know what to say, so he waited. He knew they did what had to be done for their community to thrive. He didn’t expect the people they brought to be thankful. 

“I didn’t want that life. When I was brought here, I first thought I would be killed, made an example of - I thought you all to be barbarians and nothing more. But you let me open the shop here, I bought my freedom and now my pottery is in great demand. What I thought was a punishment from God, for the heretic thoughts and desires that flooded my head - was in fact a blessing in disguise. I can be free here.” Theo swallowed as the realisation of what Harry was talking about hit him. “I didn’t know it at the time, but you helped me. Now I want to help you, Son of the Night.”

“You can’t help me, potter,” Theo stated and snatched his cup back.

“Maybe not, but I see how much you are struggling now. You don’t want the power that is being thrust onto you. You are strong, but it’s eating at you from deep inside. You have to let go - even if just for a moment.” 

Harry’s gaze was determined. He watched with casual interes as Theo mulled over his words nervously. 

* * *

“You are not the Son of a Goddess now. You are just Theo,” Harry stated as they entered Theo’s quarters in the Longhouse. “You don’t have to be strong here,” he whispered before he pulled the surprised Viking by his cloak and kissed him soundly.

Theo melted into the kiss immediately. He needed that, he needed to let go.

He tore at the man’s clothing but a steady hand stopped him in his movements. 

“No,” he said simply, and Theo’s hands dropped to his sides limply. “You need to let go of your power, just for tonight. I promise it will help.”

Theo watched wide-eyed as Harry undressed him slowly. It was agonising to watch the man remove his clothing piece by piece, with utmost care. He was used to tearing off clothes and furious couplings in darkened alcoves.

Moments later he stood naked in the middle of his room. He suddenly felt vulnerable under Harry’s hooded glances. The gooseflesh covered his skin and he almost shook with anticipation.

He wanted to pounce on the man in front of him. But there was something thrilling in obeying his command to stay still. The only commands he ever had to obey where during battle.

But this was something else. This was new.

He felt his cock twitch with excitement.

Theo watched as Harry fetched a bowl of water and dipped a flannel into it. He shivered when the cool material connected with his face. 

Harry set out to gently clean the remnants of war paint from Theo’s cheeks and temples. He then scrubbed at the dried blood that was stuck to his arms and chest, soft lips connecting with every inch of the clean skin that was uncovered.

Theo shivered when Harry’s lips trailed the thin path of hair on his abdomen, dangerously close to where he needed them most. He wanted to grab onto this man who was driving him insane and pound into his waiting mouth. But he kept still and couldn't wrap his head around as to why.

This was all so unlike him.

But there was something so alluring about the concept of letting go. Maybe he didn’t always have to be in full control of the situation.

It felt good to be taken care of. To be worshipped. To be told what to do.

“Do you want this?” 

The whisper in his ear and the hot breath on his skin almost made him keen. “Y-Yes,” he breathed. He didn’t dare look into the man’s eyes. 

A soft tug on Theo’s hand eased him to his knees. 

He kept his head bowed, as if in shame, but when he finally braved himself into looking up, he was met with the mesmerising sight of Harry’s hardened mahood. He licked his lips as his eyes caught on the drop of precome that gathered at the tip. 

His blood rushed downward with such intensity, he almost felt dizzy. 

But he kept still. He waited for permission.

Then it dawned on him how much he was used to taking whatever he wanted, with no consideration. The concept of giving, of being told what he can and cannot do felt like the absolution all those Christians talked about. It made him feel free.

Is this what Harry felt when he was ‘freed’ from his conventional life by the Norse raiders? 

Theo’s arousal was almost unbearable but, still, he waited. It was exhilarating.

He looked up to meet Harry’s eyes. Theo knew he should be ashamed of himself - he was naked and kneeling in the middle of his room. But he couldn’t bring himself to care, not now - it felt too good. Harry traced his lower lip with his thumb and Theo’s eyes fluttered shut, exhaling a shaky breath at the delicate touch he craved so much. 

He didn’t break eye contact and let his mouth fall open. He was so aroused and he needed Harry so much, he was not even opposed to begging. 

He would beg should Harry request him to, he was sure of it.

Theo sucked Harry’s thumb into his mouth when his eyes landed again on the proud cock in his periphery. He wanted to taste it. He was so used to taking, and now, bare and vulnerable, he wanted to give everything he had. He imagined that it was Harry’s manhood filling his mouth and he’s never been so turned on before in his entire life.

“How does it feel to lose control, Theo?” Harry asked, his voice husky, and Theo felt a shiver run down his spine. “Use your words.” 

It felt like the fog was lifting in his mind - like he could finally see clearly.

Harry’s thumb pressed harder on Theo’s lower lip, keeping his mouth open. A hot blush crept onto his cheeks. He was never spoken to like this - it felt humiliating. 

But why did he like it so much?

“G-Good. It feels good, Harry,” he breathed and teased the other man’s thumb with the tip of his tongue. He needed the release so much, he wanted to beg. He would do anything for the other man to just touch him.

He was hanging onto Harry’s every word and command, but, in a way, he had never felt so free. 

“Good,” Harry repeated, his voice barely a whisper, and tipped Theo’s chin up to place a chaste peck on his lips, Theo opened up immediately, greedily, ready to deepen the kiss but was left unsatisfied as Harry backed away with a smirk. He then adjusted his clothing and left the room, without another word.

Theo didn't move for a long time after that. Naked and alone, kneeling in the middle of the room.

He slammed his fist into the floor so hard he felt his knuckles crack.

He had let that man humiliate him and hated himself for enjoying it so much.

He needed more.

* * *

Theo woke up with a start. He tried to forget the dreams full of green eyes, mingled breaths and sweaty bodies. He lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, and trying to calm his uneven breathing. He was ashamed of himself, of what happened last night. He was ashamed of enjoying it and craving more.

He wanted to promise himself to forget about the potter and his devilish ways. But why did it feel so good to lose your power? He had to find out - he had to understand.

A sudden shuffle nearby brought him back to the present. Hermione was standing in his doorway, looking scared and unsure. She fidgeted with the hem of her dress.

She must be terrified of him now. Was the fear really what feeling powerful was about?

But he couldn't bring himself to care. 

“Y-You can see him now if you want,” she murmured. Of course he wanted to. “He is not well but he survived the night.”

He leapt from the bed and ran towards Draco’s rooms.

It was heart-wrenching to see one’s best friend and brother on his deathbed. ‘You’ll be the best Jarl they ever had,’ Draco said in his fever dream, ‘you’re stronger than me.’ Theo didn’t know if Draco was conscious enough to know who he was talking to - to know what’s real and what’s a hallucination. He kept calling for Hermione, who tried to busy herself with pressing a cold flannel to his burning temple. She avoided Theo’s searching gaze, soft blush colouring her cheeks.

“I can’t do it,” Theo whispered as he leaned over Draco. “I don’t want the power.”

He pressed his lips to his brother’s forehead and got up, ready to leave, his hands shaking wildly. “Remember, if he dies - you die too,” he hissed pointing at Hermione. She flinched and took a step back. 

He walked through the familiar narrow streets of Dragonstrope as if by instinct. His vision was blurry, his mind overwhelmed with a mix of pain, fear, and confusion. People were scattering out of his way. Everyone was afraid of him, even more than usually, after he lost his temper the day before - why not the fucking potter? 

He kicked open the door to the shop, ignoring the terrified shrieks from the few women who gathered there to gossip and examine the available merchandise. One sharp look sent their way was enough to empty the place. 

Harry looked unbothered as he watched the patrons leave his shop. Instead, he glanced at Theo with a raised eyebrow and a knowing smirk. He didn’t flinch away when Theo stalked towards him. 

His lips curved into a full smile when Theo curled his fingers around his throat and pushed him against the wall.

“Why did you do that to me?” he cried out, lost in those green irises again. It was inhumane to have such striking eyes. Theo felt lightheaded, what kind of magic did this man possess? Was he some kind Ljosalfar - a beautiful elf sent to seduce and deceive humans? 

“You liked it, didn’t you? And now you feel guilty and ashamed. But you must admit that losing your power for a moment made you feel even more powerful now,” Harry breathed, his eyes never breaking the contact and Theo shivered. He didn’t consider this before, he was too ashamed to think. “You want to do it again, don’t you?” Harry continued, a mischievous smirk spreading across his face.

“N-No… Yes… I don’t know.” Theo’s voice was barely a whisper but a familiar tingle of anticipation ran down his spine. 

“Don’t be ashamed, Son of the Night. You are powerful and strong. There’s nothing wrong with being vulnerable sometimes.” 

Theo wasn’t sure he should trust the man. But how he wanted to!

Not confident enough to speak, he nodded and uncurled his fingers from around Harry’s neck. 

Before he could think about what he’d agreed to, their positions were reversed and suddenly he was the one pushed against the wall, with a hand wrapped around his throat. He immediately felt arousal pooling low in his belly. 

Everything about his current situation felt wrong but he was trembling with anticipation as he watched Harry undress him at a snail's pace. His hands itched and ached to reach for Harry and pull him flush against his chest, kiss him senseless, and fuck him hard against the wall.

But he restrained himself. He wanted to give in this time.

Last night he only got a taste of what it would feel like to lose control. To give and be used, instead of just taking everything he wanted.

He keened as Harry’s nimble fingers traced the underside of his cock. He was already painfully hard, after barely being touched. What sort of magic was that? His eyes fluttered closed and his breathing quickened as the green-eyed man teased Theo’s length with his nails and fingertips. The touches were featherlight and maddening. 

Theo wanted to scream and cry for more.

“Look at me,” Harry whispered and Theo almost moaned as the other man’s hot breath teased his neck. His body arched and he leaned into the barely-there touch. His eyes flew open and he almost lost all control when he was met with the desire burning in Harry’s stare.

In any other circumstances the Viking Lieutenant would be ashamed of the needy groan that escaped his lips as Harry cupped his balls and leaned down to bite on Theo’s neck. Hard. 

“You’re doing so well,” Harry whispered as he licked and kissed the reddened skin where his teeth were just a moment before. Theo shook in anticipation, he so wanted to deserve every touch and caress. 

Harry took his hand and guided him into a kneeling position, just like the previous night. Theo didn’t fight it, he wanted it. He enjoyed it. He would worry tomorrow about feeling ashamed and embarrassed at what was happening.

Right now he was too overwhelmed by desire.

He watched with hooded eyes as Harry walked towards the chair and sat on it leisurely. Theo knew instantly what to do, without being told, and he crawled towards the man on all fours. He made quick work of releasing Harry’s cock from the confines of his trousers, and admired the impressive length for a moment, before diving down and tasting it. He couldn’t stop himself any more. 

He had wanted, needed, it so much the night before, and Harry hadn’t allowed him the pleasure of taking care of him. The anticipation and subsequent denial almost burned him alive. And now he understood how wrong it was, taking all pleasure for granted. 

He trailed the softest kisses he had ever mustered - from the tip, through the underside, and towards the other man’s balls. Theo felt lightheaded at the sound that escaped Harry’s throat. He was so proud of himself.

He had never felt this kind of rapture before. He was always the one on the receiving end of affections. He never considered how rewarding it would be to watch another person’s eyes glazed over in desire, to revel in their shallow breaths, and welcome the hand that snaked its way into his dark locks to guide his movements.

He wanted to close his eyes to savour the moment but he kept them wide-open, obeying Harry’s request. He tried to suppress his gag reflex as he let the other man fuck his mouth with abandon. He relaxed his throat and hollowed his cheeks, welcoming the feeling of being so completely used as he savoured the bittersweet taste of Harry’s manhood.

Theo let go and it made him drunk with pleasure. His cock was so hard and in such need of attention it almost hurt. But he didn’t care - all he cared about was the way Harry’s pupils dilated and his breaths quickened. His grip on Theo’s hair was nearly painful and his guiding moves turned more erratic with every bob of Theo’s head. 

He ached to touch his throbbing erection. But he didn’t deserve the release yet.

Harry moaned deep in his throat and Theo’s eyes rolled back in reaction to the sound. It was divine.

And the fact that he was responsible for another person’s pleasure made him feel more powerful than he’d felt in weeks. 

His eyes watered as Harry’s cock kept hitting the back of his throat. He knew how close the other man was and he braced himself for it. He didn’t know what to expect, he realised, never having been in this position - always too busy taking.

He startled when the hot sprays of Harry’s sperm filled his mouth. It was bitter to the taste but he swallowed every drop. He so wanted to be good. He shook in anticipation as he licked the remnants of the other man’s release from his shaft and leaned into the soft caress of Harry’s fingers on his cheeks and temple. 

He let the now softening cock slide out of his swollen lips. He was tired, but satisfied all the same. He felt accomplished.

They both panted heavily and Theo let his head rest on Harry’s thigh as he lost himself in the gentle fingers massaging his scalp.

“You were so good, Theo…” Harry breathed and Theo preened at the praise. 

He felt liberated.

And when Harry leaned over and his hand curled around Theo’s erection, he was not ashamed to cry out in ecstasy and beg for more when the pleasure overtook him.


End file.
